


Consistency

by MidnightSpade



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Grillby helps, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not outright shipping but shippy, Sans is depressed, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 03:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7388770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightSpade/pseuds/MidnightSpade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans is apathetic, lazy, he just can't bring himself to care anymore. Reset after reset drains his hope. </p><p>But there's always one place that makes him feel warmth again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consistency

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely sure if this sounds coherent cause I'll admit, I was using Sans as a vent for some of my own feelings. 
> 
> Also I'm Sansby trash, but this can just be seen as friendship if you want.

He didn't really feel much anymore.

The overwhelming sense of apathy and laziness clogging his brain was hard to lift, growing heavier and heavier with each 'new' timeline, each 'new' reset.

First it was the flower. Then it was the kid.

He was doomed to keep reliving the same life over and over, wasn't he?

It wasn't as if he remembered every single 'reset' clearly. His was only mortal after all; his brain only had a limited capacity for thought and memory. He could recall about as clearly as someone could recall their childhood, those kinds of fuzzy thoughts that grew in clarity the more strongly he felt about certain parts.

As desperate as he was to break the cycle that apathy was hard to ignore. What was the point? Why should he even bother? It was all going to reset anyway.

It had taken him long enough to figure out what was causing it. And whenever he came across the little yellow bastard he made sure to end things quickly before they could interfere with it any further, but things would always reset. Sometimes he'd go hunting for it just to get it over with quicker. Sometimes he'd leave it and let it do what it damn well wanted.

One thing remained constant, and he thought that perhaps without it he'd have lost any semblance of sanity a long time ago. This one constant thing in every timeline, in every reset, was his solace against the cloud of depression that he was surrounded by.

Grillby's diner.

It was a small place, nothing fancy, just simple food, simple company, and a simply hot bartender. He'd found himself on more than one occasion just sitting at his usual seat by the bar, watching the flaming man serving all the other customers and it'd be hours before he ordered anything himself, just fascinated by watching the man work and being happy just people watching. But this place was his respite, his haven, his... home.

Grillby's was the one place where the darkness didn't seem to touch, where the flames of the bartender would light up all the shadowed corners and make him feel some sort of hope again. A hope that maybe, perhaps, this timeline would be okay.

Of course it never lasted, things would reset. They always did.

That damn flower was only doing it out of boredom with little care for what happened to anyone else. He'd help everyone, he'd kill everyone, he'd reset their timeline only to do it all over again just a little bit differently. Even if there wasn't much repetition of events, the monotony and the predictability of it all forced him to not care.

He'd lashed out at his brother more than once, refused to come home, stayed all night in the diner in the one place he felt comfort and warmth in his cold and weary bones.

Initially it had been the flower, and then it had been the kid.

The kid was different at least; they didn't really do it out of any sort of malice. At first they hadn't even realised they had that kind of power, until that damn yellow bastard had let them in on the 'secret' behind why they didn't quite die. The kid was young, they didn't understand the consequences of their actions, led on by a stupid plant and failing to see the bigger picture.

He simultaneously hated them and pitied them. They had brought them to the surface, allowed them to see the sun for the first time in so many years, feel the warmth on their faces. Only to tear it away again because they couldn't quite let go, couldn't quite understand that this was peoples' lives they were playing with. As far as they knew no one else remembered the previous timelines, no one knew what they were doing.

But he did.

He had to watch them as they trekked through his underground home, knowing that at any moment things would jump back to a time previous and things would start all over again. They started the same cycle the damn flower did, helping people then killing them.

They'd done more than the flower had. They had more power than the flower did. They were merciful one minute, and genocidal the next. He could forgive a few things, they were only a kid, they didn't know what they were doing. But then they did. Then they knew exactly what to do. They killed his brother. They killed everyone. They've even managed to kill him the only time he'd shown any attempt to right his own laziness and do something productive.

If he had blood it would be burning, but he didn't have the energy anymore. Every reset drained him of what effort he had left, sucked all hope from him of them ever going to the surface. What was the point in fighting it? What was the point in trying?

"why should it matter anymore?"

Sans mumbled to himself as he downed another glass, hollow eyes staring ahead at the shelves of glasses behind the bar, not really focusing on anything. The rest of the bar was quiet, the last of the regulars shuffling out of the door and waving goodbye to the fiery bartender who was cleaning down the tables.

Said bartender looked up, an expression of concern on his face, or as much of one as his fire would allow him. The cloth he was using to clean up was tucked into the pocket of his apron and within a few strides he was standing behind the bar once more and looking down at his most regular customer with worry. He pulled a stool out to sit down, not saying a word but obviously giving the skeleton his full attention.

Seeing Grillby's face in his immediate vision snapped him out of his thoughts, the vacant and apathetic face he had quickly switched to one of a sheepish grin. "hey grillbz." He greeted, chuckling slightly as he downed the rest of his drink. "what's up?"

"....Are you alright?..." The elemental asked, cocking his head in concern. It was rare he would speak, his voice was so quiet that it would never be heard in the busy diner.

"'course i am, man. right as rain." Sans looked up at him, the corners of his jaw turning up in a wider grin which didn't quite meet his eyes. Grillby was clearly having none of it.

"...Sans, please...." Grillby insisted, reaching out and touching the top of his hand in a gentle gesture.

Sans' face heated up, not only from the warmth the man made of fire emitted but from his own feelings regarding the man before him.

"r-really, grillbz, i'm fine." The skeleton assured him, pulling his hand away to shrug in a nonchalant way but trying not to look like the other had just burned him or offended him. "just tired really."

"...That is your fifth glass tonight..." Chided the hushed voice as it took the offending empty glass away from him along with the bottle that was being poured into it. "...You don't usually drink unless something is wrong..."

He got him there. Every damn timeline Grillby would notice the little things. He'd notice when Sans' sleepiness was due to his usual lazy attitude. He'd notice when he drank one too many when he was trying to avoid thing. He'd notice when he was overly happy about one particular thing but trying to shrug it off as no big deal.

Grillby made him feel.... Made him feel like he was worth something. He was just glad because Grillby was so passive that he'd never been cause up in the genocide that had happened in other timelines. He didn't know what he'd do if he ever saw harm come to the gentle flame.

"just... just a rough few days. don't worry about me. i'll get over it." Sans constantly tried to reassure him but it was getting harder with each word. Those same thoughts of 'why bother, why try' crawled through his skull, asking why did he even try hiding it anymore, it was too much effort, and it's not like he'd remember it anyway if things reset...

The elemental sighed and a small plume of smoke emitted from where a mouth would usually form. It wasn't an annoyed sigh, more one where he'd heard it all before from the smaller skeleton. Sans was never good at talking about his own feelings, which left him feeling a pang of guilt as he realised just how much Grillby took notice of him. He must care at least a little bit if he was being so insistent about finding out what was wrong.

"i... i just..." Sans tried to speak but found his words choking him. The alcohol he'd consumed was making his head fuzzier than usual, making his emotions feel even more heightened, screaming through his head like a depressive storm. "i... i...."

And then he broke.

Large translucent blue tears began pouring out of his eye sockets, silent sobs wracking through his small frame as he curled in on himself, clutching at the arms of his hoody.

He didn't even notice Grillby moving but the next moment he was being swept into warm arms and his face pressed into a bright white shirt. The living flame stood next to where he sat in the bar stool, holding him close and rubbing his back in soft circles. Sans sobbed again, speech only coming out in soft warbled wails and Grillby's crooning to sooth him sounded like the gentle crackle of a fireplace, warming his soul.

"i don't know why i even bother anymore." The weeping monster finally managed to admit, earning him a tight squeeze and a warm hand made of flame stroking the top of his skull. Sans clung to him, fingerbones digging into the other's waistcoat as far around his torso as he could reach. "wh-what's the point... when... w-when...."

Grillby shushed him with a sound like creaking wood, rocking him slowly where he sat as he simply let the other cry it out on his shirt. The bar was closed now, the last of the customers long gone, the lights already half dim and chairs stacked on the tables. No one was there to see them, to bother them, to interrupt this moment of privacy Sans clearly needed.

"... You don't need to tell me if it is hard to do so...." The flaming man assured him, pressing his face atop Sans' skull as he held onto him. "...Just know that I am here when you wish to..."

This one constant thing in every timeline, in every reset, was his solace against the cloud of depression that he was surrounded by.

Grillby.


End file.
